At the End of the Day
by PteraWaters
Summary: Puck is sure that if he doesn't do as his friends dared him to and make out with Hummel, he is going to regret it, one way or another. Written for Narya's prompt at the "Writing the Fic I Didn't Write" puckurt challenge on LJ. AU.
1. Chapter 1

Puck had been a bit of a player around campus for the past year and a half, so even most of the seniors knew his reputation. Plenty of the students knew his face, too, since he was one of the best running backs the school had had in the past ten years, which sadly said a lot more about the team than about Puck's skills, and the student paper had done a couple biopics about him. Sometimes it made it easier to get laid, but sometimes, given the right kind of party, it just made things more difficult.

The academics tended to assume he was good for one thing and one thing only - running a ball down a field. Yeah, they weren't too far off base there. Puck tended to take the easiest classes he could get away with because really, he wasn't built for school. If it hadn't been for football, he'd probably be working his way up the seniority ladder at the City of Lima maintenance department.

With a college degree, though, and his natural charisma, Puck was sure he could find a job selling something expensive - like cars or boats or houses or something - when his football career was over. Unlike his best friend and the quarter back on the team, Finn Hudson, Puck wasn't stupid enough to think this football thing was going to last forever. But, what was the point of being the campus stud if you had to spend all your time studying to get good grades in some stupid major that wouldn't make a difference later on anyway?

So there Puck was, eating lunch outside on a nicer spring day, watching the girls that passed by and supplying a running commentary to his friends on whether he had fucked them, would fuck them, or wouldn't touch them with a twelve-foot pole. He didn't comment on any of the guys he'd been with, because none of his friends really knew about that part of his life. Plus, most of the dudes he'd been with were closeted, too. Mostly he met them online, setting up hook-ups that were all but anonymous, but sometimes he met them at parties or whatever.

It wasn't like sleeping with chicks was a lie or anything. He liked them almost as much as he liked dudes and it was way easier, given how many of them were around to throw themselves in his direction more often than not. He was a college dude, not giving into temptation was totally against the rules.

"You think," one of the guys, Azimio, asked him, "you could get anyone to make out with you?"

Puck smirked. "Yeah, sure. I'm like the king of the badass studs. Chicks are defenseless against my charms!" Hudson laughed and held his fist out for Puck to bump, which Puck did, thinking the whole time that it was a shame Hudson was so attached to his girlfriend. They would have such fun tearing up the town and landing girls together. Well, not together together, though that left an interesting picture in Puck's head.

Azimio laughed and then pointed across the quad to a group of drama kids, saying, "I bet you two weeks of locker room clean-up duty that you can't get that homo faggot to make out with you."

Puck hated that word, but didn't protest because what was the point? It got thrown around the locker room like it was going out of style. Protesting would just cause more trouble than it was worth.

Sighing, he looked over at the group, trying to figure out which "homo faggot" Azimio meant. They were mostly girls, but one boy did stand out to Puck, his face poised in concentration as he used one hand to twirl the end of the long scarf wrapped around his neck and the other to write something on the notebook resting delicately on his long fucking legs. Oh, for the love of god, please let Azimio be talking about him. "Which one?" Puck asked, hiding his excitement over the possibility as best he could. "There's a whole fucking flock of them."

"A flock of faggots!" Azimio guffawed, holding his hand up for a high-five from his right-hand man, Karofsky. Puck didn't miss the flash of disappointment on Karofsky's face just before he laughed and slapped his hand against Azimio's. Yeah, Puck knew all about Karofsky being gay. He'd been one of Puck's first "anonymous" hook-ups here on campus and they still got together once in a while, when other avenues went dry. "No, the one in the scarf, Puckerman. He looks enough like a girl that it shouldn't be too much of a stretch for you!"

As the boys laughed around him, Puck bit his tongue so he wouldn't say that yeah, sure, the guy was pretty, but he was also wearing pants so tight that they left very little to the imagination - and the outline of his cock, along with the Adam's apple hiding behind his scarf and the slight five o'clock shadow on his jawline very clearly marked him as a full-fledged man. No, it was the "come fuck me" clothes that marked him as effeminate and obviously gay.

Well, that and the shorter boy with the curly hair and glasses who flopped down next to Pretty Scarf Boy and pressed an affectionate kiss to his lips. "Looks like he's already got a boyfriend," Hudson said in disappointment. "Maybe we should pick an actual girl for Puck to make out with instead."

"Three weeks of clean-up duty," Azimio countered, obviously upping the bet just so Puck's pride would compel him to take it. Well, it wasn't pride making Puck seriously consider taking the bet - it was the thought of taking that boy apart and putting him back together in the dirtiest ways possible.

So really, at the end of the day, Puck had two options: Take the bet and possibly lose, having to spend the rest of the semester practically taking Azimio's duty as well as his own; or tell Azimio to fuck off and have no alibi whatsoever when he spent every waking moment trying to get into Pretty Scarf Boy's pants.

Who the fuck was he kidding? He was Noah freaking Puckerman. He wasn't going to lose!

Smirking at the rest of the table, Puck told them, "I'll take that bet, dude. Gimme two weeks to get the job done and you'll be sorry you ever dared me to do something so god damned easy!"

"If it's so easy," Azimio smirked, rolling his eyes, "then I'm sure one week will be enough. Don't you think boys?"

Everyone except Hudson and Karofsky whooped and hollered, so Puck had to agreed, "Fine. One week. You're on!"

A fist bump sealed the deal and Puck finished his lunch, watching PSB finish his work, almost oblivious to the people around him.

* * *

><p>Kurt Hummel was working on rearranging to fit his unique voice a song for his upcoming audition. The summer musical had a part perfect for his voice and stage presence, so all he had to do now was impress the student directors into giving him a callback so he could audition for the faculty directors. Since Kurt was sleeping with one of the student directors, he probably didn't even have to show up to get the callback. However, relying on his boyfriend to get ahead and not giving it his all just wasn't Kurt.<p>

He was interrupted in his thoughts when a giant crashed down in the library chair next to him, saying, "Hey, brother."

"Finn," Kurt nodded to his step-brother, sneering at his latest Abercrombie and Nightmare ensemble. "If you keep needing my help to pass your classes, I'm going to tell Carole she needs to start paying me for my time."

"Hey!" Finn complained with a chuckle, shouldering Kurt lightly. "No, I'm doing good this semester. Honest."

"Then why the unexpected visit?" Kurt asked, shuffling his papers until they were just-so.

"I, uh, came to warn you," Finn stammered nervously.

"Warn me about what?"

Kurt watched curiously as Finn started and stopped a few times before admitting, "Someofthe guysbetPuck tomakeout withyou."

"What?" Kurt asked softly, raising one eyebrow in disbelief. "What's a Puck and how is making out involved, exactly?"

Rolling his eyes, Finn insisted, "Puck is my best friend on the team, bro! The running back? How have you not met him yet?"

"Because I find your friends disgusting and uncouth, not to mention flagrantly homophobic?" Kurt suggested. "Where does making out fit into this scenario, exactly?"

"Azimio bet Puckerman he couldn't get you to make out with him before, like, a week is up," Finn explained, playing with the zipper pull on his tragic jacket. "Puck took the bet."

Sighing, Kurt shook his head and asked, "Why me? There are plenty of gay men on campus."

"Dude, I don't wanna know," Finn frowned, that small trace of homophobia still left in him even after close to four years of being Kurt's step-brother. "I guess they just picked you because you were in their line of sight or something. You know, convenient."

"And at no point during the conversation did you tell them I was your step-brother, did you?" Kurt asked, setting a harsh glare on Finn, who sort of retreated in on himself (well as much as a six-foot-five giant can) and shook his head. Sighing, Kurt went back to his work for a few moments before asking, "What did they bet?"

"That Puck couldn't make out with y-"

"I meant, what are the stakes?" Kurt interrupted, rolling his eyes. "Was there large sums of money involved? I have been eying a new Prada scarf lately."

It took Finn a moment to understand what Kurt was talking about, but when he did, he coughed and replied, "No, man. No money. Just locker room clean up duties at stake. Well, and pride. You'd really make out with a guy that wasn't your boyfriend just for a scarf?"

Kurt shrugged. He hadn't really been feeling like Blaine's boyfriend lately. They'd both gotten busier with school and Blaine had a big part in the spring musical that kept him busy most nights. They hadn't had sex in at least a week and even then it had been a few instances of getting off as quickly as possible before one or the other had to go back to his dorm room and get some sleep. Maybe this was the stage of the relationship that everyone warned you about - when the magic faded and all that was left were the two of you.

They had been dating since high school. Kurt hadn't even expected to meet anyone until college, but then there was Blaine, the dapper young man who was talented and sweet and seemed to have all the answers. But that time seemed so long ago and Kurt had this itching feeling at the back of his neck that college could be so much more if he wasn't with Blaine.

Grinning at Finn and taking his arm in a brotherly fashion, Kurt insisted, "You, my dear Finn, are going to introduce me to Puckerman."

Mouth falling open in shock, Finn asked, "But what about Blaine? I don't think I can do that to h-"

"Oh, I'm not going to go through with it," Kurt insisted, lying through his teeth. If this Puckerman guy was ugly, maybe he wouldn't go through with it, but Finn didn't need to know Kurt's less-than-honorable intentions if Puck was actually attractive. "I just want to tell him off to his face."

Finn looked concerned, but he nodded and said, "Okay," anyway, just like Kurt knew he would.

* * *

><p>After football practice, Finn approached Puck and said, "Hey, dude. Can I talk to you for a minute?"<p>

"Sure," Puck shrugged. All he was really gonna do that evening was poke around on the university website to see if he could figure out who exactly he was supposed to be making out with. He'd seen the guy once in passing that day, in the music building, but he hadn't had the opportunity to go introduce himself. Besides, that shorter, curly-haired boy was at his side at the time, and Puck really wanted to introduce himself in a way he couldn't really do if the guy's boyfriend was right there - with plenty of innuendo. "What's up, dude?"

"So you know that bet you made with Azimio?"

"Uh, _yeah_," Puck nodded with a scoff. "It was just yesterday. Unlike you, Hudson, I don't have the memory span of a goldfish."

Finn looked confused for half a moment (it was really almost endearing) and then shook his head, plowing onward. "Well, I didn't tell you before, but he's sort of my stepbrother, Kurt."

"Stepbrother?" Puck asked, wondering what other hidden depths there were hiding somewhere in his friend's exceptionally large shadow. And now at least Puck had a name to go off of - Kurt. Sizing Finn up, Puck rolled his eyes and muttered, "What? Are you gonna warn me off? I gotta do it, dude, your stepbrother or not. Unless you want to cover Azimio's shifts for m-"

"No!" Finn insisted quickly, and there was the slightly lazy guy Puck knew and loved. "No. I just thought- I mean, I figured I could introduce you to him. I've been meaning to forever, anyway. He's coming by my dorm to help me study."

Feeling like maybe luck was with him just this once, Puck asked, "Really? That's all there is to it?"

"Yeah," Finn replied, looking just the tiniest bit nervous. "I mean, I'm your friend, bro. It's like, my duty to help you out."

Letting a smile spread across his face, Puck slapped Finn on the shoulder and said, "Well, alright, dude! Let's do this thing!"

Puck followed Finn back to his dorm room, which was in the same building as his own, and most of the other football players, so it wasn't like he had to go out of his way or anything. Making himself at home, Puck grabbed a sports drink out of Finn's mini-fridge and turned on his TV, flipping through the few stations the campus cable provided until he came to a rerun of some sitcom or other that didn't look too terrible.

It wasn't two minutes before Pretty Scarf Boy himself arrived, walking right into Finn's room without knocking, like he had every right to be there. Finn looked up from his place on the chair next to Puck's and said, "Oh, hey, Kurt! This is-"

"The legendary Noah Puckerman," Kurt nodded, looking him up and down with this assessing eye that made Puck wish he was either naked or wearing a lot more clothing. "So I see."

"So you've heard of me?" Puck asked with a smirk, getting up out of his chair to look this kid straight in the eyes.

"Recently, yes" Kurt nodded with a frown on his lips. "Finn, if you would be so kind as to..."

After shaking off what seemed to be a perpetual state of dumbness, Finn stood up, saying, "Yeah, sure. Did you want me to-"

"Please," Kurt interrupted him with a nod, gesturing vaguely toward the door, like he wanted Finn to leave. What the fuck?

While Finn high-tailed it out of there, Puck turned to Kurt and asked, "So, do I want to know what this is all about?"

Kurt raised one eyebrow silently before looking Puck up and down again, circling around him like an art collector assessing a fancy-ass sculpture or something. Well, Puck's bod was pretty chiseled. He smirked when Kurt finally finished his circuit and met Puck's eyes. "You certainly know you're attractive, don't you?" Kurt asked, his voice cold, but his cheeks betraying him with the tiniest of blushes.

"I've got eyes," Puck shrugged, holding out his arms as if to give Kurt a better view. "So, you and Finn are-"

"Forget about Finn," Kurt demanded, pushing Puck with one finger back toward his chair. "He told me all about your little bet."

"Oh," Puck frowned, falling back in the chair when Kurt gave him one last shove. It shouldn't be this hot, letting a guy with maybe half the muscle mass Puck had push him around like this, but it totally was. Shit, but now that Kurt knew about the bet, Puck was hosed, wasn't he? "Finn told you?"

"Yes," Kurt replied, looking down at Puck for a long moment before seeming to make up his mind about something and carefully moving forward to straddle Puck's lap. Well, this was certainly a step in the right direction. Feeling the guy's weight settle in his lap, Puck caught his breath and let his hands skirt down the backs of Kurt's obscenely long legs, until they were batted away. Tilting his head as he watched Puck's face and then traced down the side of it with one finger, Kurt said, his voice high and breathy, and somehow low at the same time, "I think I know why you took this bet."

Refusing to be struck speechless by the beautiful boy in his lap, Puck replied thickly, "Yeah? Why's that?"

* * *

><p>Okay, so Kurt had no idea what he was doing, and yet it seemed to be working. Puck was almost trembling beneath Kurt's thighs, obviously turned on, and that told Kurt everything he needed to know. Puck wasn't some straight guy, just looking to take a walk on the wild-side during college. Kurt might not have been very experienced, but he wasn't naive, either. He'd heard the stories his friends told about one-night stands and drunken hook-ups and had always come down on the side of being grateful that he had a steady boyfriend to save him from all that bullshit.<p>

But Kurt got tired of being saved. He got tired of living in Blaine's shadow and even if this cost him that part in the summer musical, Kurt needed something more.

Answering Puck's question, Kurt stroked his hand back through the boy's (delightfully clean) strip of hair and then whispered in his ear, "Because you really, really want me, don't you?"

Kurt felt vindicated and more than a little powerful when Puck groaned low in his throat and nodded, hands chasing upward to land on Kurt's ass, kneading with so much want that Kurt almost lost control and shuddered into it. He almost rolled his hips forward and pressed his lips to Puck's to just give him that make out session he needed.

But that wasn't part of the plan. (Okay, so he was sort of making up the plan as he went. What could Kurt say? He was gifted at improvisation.)

Taking both of Puck's wrists in his grip, Kurt removed Puck's hands from his behind and set them against the football player's chest. With a smirk, Kurt kissed the tip of Puck's nose and said, "You didn't think I would make this that easy for you, did you?"

He almost cackled with how quickly Puck's face fell, and maybe he would have if the guy didn't look so pitifully disappointed. Getting up out of Puck's lap, Kurt bent forward and looked directly in his eyes as he said, "I like musical theater, Italian food, dancing, and fashion. And I demand at least two dates, in public, before I agree to making out with you. Got it?"

Wide-eyed, Puck nodded and Kurt couldn't help but take pity on him and close the distance between them, giving him a light, chaste, kiss on the lips and trying not to let the delicious smell of Puck's skin weaken his knees. "Finn can tell you how to contact me. Until later, then," Kurt saluted with a smile, re-wrapping his scarf as he left the dorm room and wondering exactly how much time was going to pass before he got a call from the running back, begging for a date.

Oh, and he should probably break up with Blaine before Puckerman called. If a few touches and kisses from this new guy had Kurt blushing from his ears down to his toes (though he was sure he hid it well), then his relationship with Blaine was already dead, and Kurt was the only one of the two of them who knew it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

Puck sat, speechless, in his chair until Finn came back, knocking on his own door and peeking in like he wasn't quite sure what would be going on. Well, if Puck had his way, he would currently have been dry humping Kurt on Finn's futon and sucking hickeys into that pale skin on his neck. Instead, he was sitting here with a slowly flagging erection and no idea what to do next.

If he gave in to Kurt's demands, there was a big chance that someone would see him dating a dude and then word would spread across campus like wildfire. Puck's picture would be in the school paper again, this time not in the sports section, but the gossip section. He'd never be able to hook up with another co-ed until he graduated and moved out of the fucking state.

But on the other hand, he'd just spent the hottest two minutes of his life (well, clothed life, anyway) and he would be a fucking idiot to pass that up. Right? Right.

So when Finn asked, "Really ripped you a new one, didn't he?" Puck couldn't help but laugh. "What?" Finn asked, concern spread all over his dopey face. "What happened?"

"He asked me out," Puck replied with another laugh. "He fucking asked _me _out!"

"What?" Finn cried in disbelief. "I can't – I mean he said… What?"

Sparing a quick look for his friend, Puck heaved himself out of his chair as he said, "Don't hurt yourself there, dude." Making sure he had all his shit, Puck abandoned Finn there, laughing a little at the guy's confused face, and went back to his room, ready to start planning the first date. And hey, if there wasn't going to be making out, Puck could totally have some of that awesome garlic bread at the little Italian place down the street without having to be self-conscious about it.

Despite the rumors that were sure to hound him following this whole bet debacle, Puck found himself really looking forward to dating Kurt Hummel.

* * *

><p>Kurt thought things had been going well. After breaking up with Blaine and ignoring Finn's concerned calls, he got Puck to pick him up from the lobby of his dorm and walk him to the Italian restaurant just off campus that they had agreed to go to. Kurt kept his cool and conversation was actually moving along despite many shared interests ... until Blaine decided to show up.<p>

And Kurt's ex didn't just _show up_. He came with the entire undergraduate male _a capella_ group backing him as he broke into song.

"_I've been a bad, bad girl,  
>I've been careless with a delicate man!<em>"

From the first note, Kurt recognized Blaine's singing voice and felt his face turn deep red. What the hell did he think he was doing? Kurt had made it perfectly clear that they were breaking up and that Kurt intended on seeing other people, namely Puck, who was sitting across the table. His expression turned from surprised to downright pissed when he realized that Kurt was the one being serenaded, but at least he looked pissed at Blaine and not Kurt.

"I'm so, so sorry," Kurt insisted to Puck, shooting Blaine the bitchiest glare he was capable of. "I don't know how he found out about our date."

"_And it's a sad, sad world,  
>When a girl will break a boy,<br>Just because she can!_"

Blaine had danced his way up to Kurt, kneeling in front of him, like he was begging for another chance, so Kurt crossed his arms in front of his chest and asked over the Warblers' back-up vocals, "How is this song even relevant? _I_ broke up with _you_!"

Unperturbed, Blaine continued, a smile on his too-perfect face.

"_Don't you tell me to deny it,  
>I've done wrong and I want to<br>Suffer for my sins._"

Kurt scoffed at the way he'd unintentionally played into the lyrics before sending Puck a look that he hoped said either, "Help!" or "I'm so embarrassed, just kill me now."

"_I've come to you 'cause I need  
>Guidance to be true and I<br>Just don't know where I can begin._"

"You can begin by getting out of our faces," Puck insisted, and he seemed to be concerned about the amount of attention Blaine's little stunt was drawing. Before Kurt could apologize again, Puck had thrown down some cash from his wallet and grabbed Kurt's hand, pulling him in a frenzied, but actually kind of fun escape from the restaurant while Blaine sang after them, "_Because he's all I've ever known of love!_"

After running for a good block or two in his dress shoes, Kurt pulled on Puck's hand, telling him, "I think we've escaped!" while trying to breathe and laugh at the same time.

Eyes bright with laughter in the light of the sandwich shop beside them, Puck grinned, "No wonder you broke up with that douchebag. He do stuff like that often?"

"Unfortunately," Kurt nodded, running his tongue around his teeth in an effort to moisten up his mouth, which was getting dry with the effort to breathe through the exertion he was unaccustomed to. Kurt was definitely more of a yoga man than a running man. "I used to think it was attractive."

Puck laughed again before bringing his free hand (Kurt just noticed that he was still clutching Puck's other hand tightly, not wanting to let go) up to Kurt's face and brushing the backs of his knuckles against Kurt's cheek. "You look good like this," Puck said, his voice oozing confidence and sex. "Flustered. Flushed."

Oh, no. No, no, no. This was supposed to be about Kurt getting control over his dating life, not getting swept up in stupid romantic gestures again. The hitch in his breath and that warm feeling low in his gut didn't mean anything. They couldn't.

Before the football player could lean in and kiss him, Kurt let go of his hand and stepped back, saying, "Thanks for the date. I-I'm sorry it got ruined." As he backed away, narrowly missing another pedestrian, Kurt told Puck, "I'm free again on Friday. You come up with something good, I'll take care of banishing annoying exes."

And then he fled, feeling not at all in control (more like a breathless teenager just leaving his first date with a boy, _ever_) but remarkably happy, all the same.

* * *

><p>When Puck got to the locker room the next afternoon for practice, Azimio was waiting for him, holding out a printed sheet from some website or whatever. "Well, look what we got here, boys," he said, keeping his eyes with Puck like he might try to bolt or something. "Puckerman's taking this bet way too seriously."<p>

Frowning at the guy, Puck grabbed the paper out of Azimio's hands and took a better look at it. Apparently it was from Jacob Ben Israel's gossip blog and the bastard had managed to snap a picture of him and Kurt running away from the restaurant, hand-in-hand and laughing. The headline read, "**Hero Running Back Switching Teams?**"

Shoving the piece of paper back in Azimio's direction, Puck scoffed, "So what? I'm getting the job done."

"Dude, seriously?" Azimio laughed, pushing the paper at one of the other guys, like he wanted them to pass it around or some shit. "Because it looks like you're getting more out of this whole thing than just winning a bet. You going fag on us, Puckerman?"

Puck still hated that word and it took every ounce of strength he had to keep the boiling of his blood damped down enough that he wouldn't do something stupid, like start a shoving match in the locker room. Instead, he smirked and said, "By the time I win this bet, you're gonna be nominating me for an Oscar, bro. I'm just that talented at making it look good."

"Yeah?" Azimio asked, disbelief on his face waning just slightly. "We'll see about that. Just know that if you go homo, we'll make sure you get kicked off the team."

As Azimio and his friends, including one very contrite looking Karofsky, walked away and started getting ready for practice, Puck called after them, "It's your fucking bet, asshole!" Scoffing when the guy just kept on walking, Puck turned around to see Finn Hudson right behind him, looking pissed beyond belief. "What's got your panties in a bunch?"

"If you're just faking this, then you deserve a fucking Oscar, man. You could you do this to my brother? He thinks you're his new boyfriend or something and won't stop asking me all these fucking questions about you. If you're not serious, I'm going to have to kick your ass."

"He's asking about me?" Puck said, shaking his head at how happy that thought made him. This _was _just a bet, right? Kurt knew that, too, didn't he? Of course he did. Patting Finn's shoulder, Puck told him with a placating smile, "Don't worry about it, dude. I got this."

"And when Azimio makes you pick between Kurt and the team?" Finn asked, shrugging off Puck's hand with a disdainful pout.

"Azimio can't do shit to me," Puck insisted, rolling his eyes and heading toward his locker to start changing, willing himself to believe it was true.

* * *

><p>"And then," Kurt told his friend, Mercedes, holding her hand steady so he wouldn't mess up the edges of the red nail polish he was applying for her, "Blaine showed up."<p>

"No!" she replied, scandalized and yet holding her hand perfectly still. "What did he do? Was there a fight?"

"Blaine? In a fight?" Kurt scoffed, shaking his head. "No way. It was even worse. Blaine started _singing_."

"Ooh, what song?"

Giving his friend a disbelieving look, one eyebrow up and everything, Kurt told her, "_Criminal_."

Nodding, Mercedes replied, "He would go straight to Britney for a revenge song, wouldn't he?"

"No, the Fiona Apple one," Kurt clarified, setting the brush in its bottle and blowing gently on Mercedes' nails to dry them. "_He _was the criminal in this instance, like he felt he needed to apologize to me."

His girl shrugged one shoulder and said, "Well, you have been complaining about your relationship with Blaine for _months_, baby boy. Maybe the break-up made him finally see you were serious that things needed to change."

"And now they have changed," Kurt insisted, putting down Mercedes' hand and taking the other so he could start painting those nails. "I _don't _want to get back together with him, even if it was different. Not now and maybe not ever."

Mercedes made a disbelieving noise, like she couldn't believe he and Blaine weren't meant to be, but she didn't argue, so Kurt went on painting her nails and changed the topic to their auditions for the musical, which were coming up the following week. A dark pallor of "what if breaking up with Blaine cost him the part" fell over the conversation, but Kurt tried to ignore it as best he could, focusing on how to help Mercedes kill her audition.

* * *

><p>"<em>This<em> is where you chose to take me on our second date?" Kurt asked with a disdainful pout and Puck couldn't help but notice the way his palms broke out in a nervous sweat. Puck didn't get nervous. Not _ever_. What the fuck was wrong with him? Maybe it was those tight jeans that Kurt decided to wear that night, probably knowing exactly how well they showed off his assets. "This is a frat house."

"You said you liked dancing," Puck replied, taking Kurt's hand and tugging him toward the house, which was blaring loud dance music and already had drunken kids wearing beer jackets hanging out on the veranda. "C'mon. It'll be fun, I promise."

Kurt rolled his eyes, but followed along, saying in Puck's ear as they went up the steps, "It's just that these are the kinds of guys that beat the shit out of me in high school. I really don't think things have changed _that _much."

"You'll be fine," Puck promised, even though he didn't know that for sure. He'd decided on this party because almost the whole team was planning on being here tonight and if he wanted to win this bet, he had to have witnesses. A few drinks, some sexy dancing, and Kurt had to agree to make out with him, right? It had worked on plenty of girls before. Of course, lots of those girls had gone to the frat parties with the intention of getting laid, but still. It wasn't like Puck hadn't seen hipster-looking dudes making out with each other at these sorts of parties before. And, yeah, that was the sort of thing he noticed.

Walking up to the house hand-in-hand, they got a few looks, but nothing overtly insulting. Or, not that Puck noticed. Whatever. He was a freaking badass and a star on the football team. Everyone else could just fuck off. Once inside, where the music was louder, but not overwhelming, it seemed like everyone was too busy with their own shit to give a damn about Puck bringing a theater gay as his date.

The first person that Puck recognized was Dave Karofsky, who was standing next to the staircase with a red plastic cup in his hand and a girl talking his ear off. Yeah, good luck with that, Puck thought in her direction. Karofsky hardly ever slept with random skanks for his reputation's sake anymore. Well, _female_ skanks, anyway. When the girl took Karofsky's cup and waded back through the party, Puck decided to go say hello.

"Hey, dude," Puck said to Karofsky, holding Kurt's hand tightly because despite what he'd said, he was a little nervous that if the guy went wandering off on his own, he might run across a pack of dickheads who might drunkenly harass him, just for being his awesome self. "What's up?"

Karofsky looked surprised when he saw who Puck had with him, and maybe even a little _jealous_. "Not much," he replied, giving Puck a look that clearly asked whether or not he was insane. "You?"

"We just got here," Puck replied, giving Kurt a smile. "This is Kurt. Kurt, this is one of my teammates, Karofsky."

"Charmed, I'm sure," Kurt said with complete disinterest, frowning as a pair of girls in _very_ low-cut tops bounced by, chatting with each other excitedly.

As Kurt continued to people-watch, Puck leaned toward Karofsky and said, "Do me a favor and keep an eye on him tonight? You know you owe me."

Karofsky gave Puck a look that said he knew nothing of the sort, but he nodded and said, "Yeah, sure. Whatever."

"Thanks, dude," Puck grinned, glad to know at least someone from the team was sort-of on his side. At least in a lookout capacity.

Turning to his date, Puck asked Kurt, "So, what can I get you to drink, babe?"

* * *

><p>Kurt didn't like it here, at all. Most of the campus parties he'd been to were full of theater kids and the ones who weren't gay were at least very accepting. This <em>frat<em>party was teeming with straight people and Kurt hadn't been this outnumbered since high school. It sucked.

He was on the verge of calling off the entire night when Puck asked what he'd like to drink. Normally, Kurt would have ordered something complicated and fabulously colored, but he doubted the bar here was stocked as nicely as the ones at his friends' houses.

The thing was, when he looked into Puck's face, Kurt could tell that the boy was trying _so hard _and Kurt knew it couldn't just be about the bet. Not with the way Puck looked at him. Thirteen years in public school had taught Kurt how to see through people, how to know when they were lying and when he was about to become the butt of someone's joke. He didn't know if he and Puck had any prospects further than getting drunk and making out at some stupid frat party, but he knew the football player was being sincere.

Sighing, Kurt rolled his eyes and said, "I _suppose _you could bring me a rum and coke. Diet if they have it."

Puck nodded and dropped Kurt's hand for the first time since they'd started walking toward the party and Kurt would be lying if he said it didn't feel at all like being abandoned in shark-infested waters. Shaking off the feeling, Kurt turned to Puck's friend and asked, "What was your name again?"

The big guy shook his head and rolled his eyes a little (reminding Kurt far too much of some of his high school bullies) before answering, "Dave. And you're _Kurt_, right?"

"Mmm," Kurt hummed in agreement, looking around them and picking out exactly which guys (they were almost always guys) were giving him the disgusted side-eye. He side-eyed them right back, judging their appearances for his own amusement. Almost every single one of them was wearing too much self-tanner and had a stupidly-spiked faux-hawk. Sheep.

Then, Dave was closer to him, almost shoulder to shoulder, and he leaned over to say in Kurt's ear, "Puckerman's never going to date you."

Giving the guy an assessing look before he replied, Kurt saw that Dave seemed sincere. "Why do you say that?" he asked, knowing full well it was probably the truth. But really, what was wrong with Kurt wanting to have a little fun now that his first and only relationship was over?

"Because," Dave explained, still leaning a little too close for Kurt's comfort, "if this _thing_ between you two looks like anything even remotely like a relationship, Puck's off the team. Without the team he's without his scholarship and he gets sent packing."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Kurt shook his head. "This university has very clear anti-discrimination policies, even where team sports are concerned. Why else would I come here?"

Dave huffed loudly, crossing his arms over his chest as well, and making Kurt feel uncomfortable about keeping up the gesture. Whatever. He was using it first. "It's not that simple," Dave insisted. "You think it would be all that difficult for one of the guys to frame Puckerman for drugs or something? Why else would I-" Dave cut himself off, shaking his head and Kurt _knew_.

Feeling sorry for Dave, but mostly pissed off at the situation, Kurt shrugged. "I guess we'll see how it goes."

"Guess so," Dave grunted in reply, leaning back a little and giving Kurt the distinct impression that he was being checked out.

Holding out one finger, Kurt said in his frostiest voice, "Don't even think about it, ham-hock."

"Think about what?" Dave replied, feigning innocence. _Yeah, right_.

When Puck got back with the drinks, trying to play it cool, but exuding this air of wanting to please under the surface, Kurt took the drink and downed it quickly, handing his glass back to Puck and insisting, "C'mon. We came here to dance, so we're gonna dance."

"Oh, okay," Puck agreed, chugging his beer before handing both empties to Dave and following Kurt toward the room where all the music was coming from. If this romance was doomed to be short-lived, as Dave seemed to think, Kurt was going to make the most of it.

* * *

><p>So, yeah. Maybe bringing Kurt to this party wasn't his best idea ever, but Puck was pretty happy with the results so far. He and Kurt were dancing close and the guy seemed to be having fun, smiling and wrapping his arms around Puck's neck once in a while and dancing so close that Puck couldn't help but get a little aroused.<p>

After a few songs, Puck asked, right in Kurt's ear as he held the boy close by his hips, "I'm gonna go get another drink. You want something?"

Kurt nodded and then danced away from Puck, joining a group of girls who maybe he knew, maybe he didn't, but they seemed happy to have him. Shrugging, Puck went to the bar and mixed another rum and diet (since Kurt hadn't asked for anything else) and poured himself another beer. Before he could go back, though, one of the guys from the team stopped him, wanting to talk about the game they had in the morning.

"I don't know, dude," Puck replied to the guy's question. "Can't it wait until tomorrow? I'm kind of on a mission here."

The guy scoffed and shook his head. "Bro, why would you even take that bet? I mean, I've done some sick shit in the name of pride, but making out with a homo? Gross!"

Puck wanted to argue, to tell the douche bag that Kurt was a human being, not an alien or something, but what was the point? It wasn't like Puck could do or say anything to change his mind. Instead, he just nodded with a smile that felt more like a grimace and went back to his date.

Except Kurt wasn't there on the dance floor. Shit. He'd gotten sick of being at this party and took the opportunity to leave. It felt like a punch in Puck's gut, and more because he was really starting to like the guy, rather than the sick feeling being due to the certainty that he was never going to win the bet.

But then Karofsky caught his attention from near the door, his wave casual, but his eyes full of something like fear. "Fucking fuck," Puck swore to himself, pushing his drinks at whoever happened to be closest and fighting his way out through the crowd. "Where is he?"

"They took him out and around to the side," Dave replied, pointing to the right.

"And you just let them?" Puck cried, pushing Dave's shoulder angrily.

Dave pushed back, and then took Puck and pushed him more in the right direction, out the door, saying, "What was I gonna do? Azimio thought it looked too much like you were gonna win the bet. You know what happens if I speak up."

"Yeah, you look less like a douche bag and more like a human being, asshole," Puck replied, fear making his hands and feet feel so cold as he tripped out of the house and rounded the corner to find Kurt surrounded by big football players. He looked so small and so slight, but not scared in the least. Badass.

Trying to play it at least a little cool, Puck approached the circle and called, "No fair rigging the game, Azimio! I think this little stunt means you forfeit."

"What stunt?" Azimio asked with a laugh, clapping Kurt so hard on the shoulder that the guy stumbled a little before resuming his uncaring, hip-jutted-out pose. "We were just having a friendly conversation with your _date_, Puckerman."

"Uh-huh," Puck nodded, pushing his way into the circle and standing beside Kurt. "And this 'friendly' conversation had to happen outside because…?"

"It's too loud inside," Azimio replied. "Duh."

Puck scoffed, but his reaction was overshadowed by none other than Finn Hudson, running up to the frat house and yelling, "Puck! Puck! Has anyone seen Puckerman?"

One of Azimio's friends called, "Yo! Over here, Hudson!" and Finn came around the side of the house, Dave Karofsky trailing after him.

Without even noticing what was going on, Finn called, "Hey, Puck! I just heard that…" Puck saw the moment Finn realized that his friend and his stepbrother were surrounded by linebackers. "Never mind."

"Well, now that everyone's here, looks like we can get this par-"

* * *

><p>Kurt's loud scoff cut Azimio's words off and all eyes turned to look at him. "You think I don't know what you're trying to do?" he asked, staring down each and every one of the men surrounding them. "You're trying to scare me or tell me that Puck's playing me, that he's only in it for a bet." Kurt paused slightly at the surprised looks he was getting from a few of the football players. "Oh, yeah. I've known about that from the start. And really, what makes you so sure I'm not playing <em>him<em>? I mean, Christ, just look at him."

Kurt approached his date and ruffled the strip of hair on the top of Puck's head. "Sure, he's good looking, but there's not all that much going on upstairs, is there?" Ignoring Puck's hurt look, Kurt went back to staring at the football players, some of whom chuckled at the mention of Puck's mental capabilities, which Kurt knew weren't nearly as bad as he played them up to be. "If you're afraid your little buddy here is turning gay, don't worry about it. I've just made him think that. You know, with my evil gay powers."

Exchanging a look with one of his friends, Azimio started, "Hey, now wait a min-"

This time Kurt cut off the jerk by grabbing Puck's face and pulling him into a deep, frustratingly short (even though it probably lasted close to thirty seconds) French kiss. Kurt almost shuddered at the way Puck tasted under the beer he'd been drinking, knowing at that first taste that he could spend hours, _years_, kissing this man. Puck's surprised gasp in through his nose and then the slow careful way he exhaled told Kurt that he was enjoying the kiss, too.

And then Kurt pulled back, pushed Puck away from him and turned to face Azimio. "There. He won the bet and you can have him back in your little straight-boys club now. Goodbye and good luck with the upcoming season." Pushing his way past the stunned football players, Kurt latched onto Finn and whispered at him harshly, "Get me the fuck out of here."

Finn just nodded and followed his command, walking quickly beside Kurt away from the frat house and away from Frat Row and back toward central campus, where Kurt felt much safer. Briefly, it occurred to him that maybe he _should _call up Blaine and give the guy another chance, that it would be safer in the long run. But, no. As fun and as doomed as things with Noah Puckerman had been, Kurt knew he needed more out of life than his safe relationship with Blaine.

Now it was a matter of how long he was willing to wait for a certain football player to get his head out of his ass or whether, come next weekend, Kurt would plan to go out with his friends in the hopes of meeting someone new.

* * *

><p>Puck stood in the center of the circle, stunned as everyone watched Kurt walk away. That kiss had been incredible. Even better than Puck had been imagining. And now Kurt was gone.<p>

Fuck.

Turning to Azimio, Puck growled, "You asshole!" and took a swing, clipping Azimio on the jaw.

"What?" the guy replied as the others grabbed Puck to keep him from hitting the linebacker again. "You won the bet and you're calling me the asshole? Jesus, boys, I think our friend Puckerman has really gone faggot. So sad. He had so much potential."

"Yeah, have fun trying to explain the MJ Coach is gonna find in your locker Monday morning," another of them said, his grin wide and feral.

"Knock it off, dudes," a voice cried and at first, Puck didn't recognize it as Dave Karofsky's, it was so strained. "Leave Puck alone. He's not gay."

"Seems pretty gay to me," one guy commented while another asked, "Just how much did you enjoy that kiss, Fuckerman? Half-mast or full-sail?"

Well, the truth was full-sail, but before Puck could be badass and brag about that, Dave got in front of him and almost screamed at the others, "_I'm_ the gay one on this team. _Me_!"

And that was not something Puck would have bet on happening. Not in a million years.

"You can't be gay," Azimio insisted after a moment. "You're too damn ugly, for one."

Karofsky nodded, but he looked heartbroken or something, and Puck guessed he got it. No one wants to find out their best friend thinks they're ugly. Especially if Dave had been harboring gay feelings for the guy.

Wanting to stand up for Karofsky, like in solidarity or whatever, Puck nudged him with one shoulder, saying, "You're hot, Dave. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I mean, I don't fuck uglies, dude."

"Jesus Christ, it's an epidemic!" Azimio cried. "Looks like we got two frame-jobs to do come Monday."

"Plus the four other guys on the team," Karofksy added, crossing his arms over his chest, "that I _know _firsthand, who are into dudes. You gonna frame all of us, Z, or are you gonna let this shit go?"

One of the other guys said, "Shit, Z. We can't lose six guys at once. Coach'll never believe it, much less let it happen."

"Just let the homos be," another one insisted impatiently. "If we catch them looking at us in the locker room, we can kick the crap out of them."

"Yeah, that's a good plan," Puck smiled, relieved more than he was willing to admit. "Now, if you don't mind, I've got a gay to catch."

* * *

><p>He and Finn were almost back to Kurt's dorm when Kurt heard footsteps running up behind them. "Hey! Hey, guys, wait!" someone called and Kurt instantly recognized Puck's voice, despite his desire to have nothing more to do with the man.<p>

When Puck got around in front of them, Kurt asked, "What do you think you're doing here?"

"Dude!" Puck cried incredulously. "You can't just kiss a guy like that and then walk away!"

Kurt rolled his eyes and brushed past Puck, saying, "Really? Because I'm pretty sure I just did. Have a nice life, Puck."

"But-"

Finn cut him off, telling Puck as Kurt kept walking away, "The game's over, bro. You won. Let it go."

As much as it unnecessarily warmed Kurt's heart, having his step-brother stick up for him, Puck's next words made Kurt stop short. "It's not a fucking game, Hudson. It's not a bet. It didn't even start that way."

Turning around, Kurt met Puck's eyes in the light from the streetlamp and asked, "How did it start?"

"I just … saw you," Puck explained, shaking off the hand that Finn had been using to hold him back and rushing up to just-short-of-touching Kurt. "I saw you and I wanted you. As simple as that. How about you, Kurt? Am I really wasting my time here or can I kiss the crap out of you?"

Holding his breath for a few seconds, Kurt tried to tell himself to make a wise decision. Puck was going to get kicked off the team if they did this. He was going to lose his scholarship and leave the university and they'd probably never see each other again, anyway, and it would be Kurt's entire fault. On the other hand, Kurt couldn't get the taste of Puck's tongue out of his head and every single cell in his body screamed for more, more, more. Before he could consciously make a decision, Kurt said, "You're not."

"I'm not what?" Puck asked, running one hand down the outside of Kurt's arm, making them both shiver at that touch.

Rolling his eyes, Kurt brushed off that hair-standing-on-end feeling and scoffed, "You really are as dim as you look, aren't you Puckerman? You're not _wasting your time_." With that, Kurt grabbed Puck by the back of the neck and pulled him into their second kiss, loving the way Puck melted into it.

As Kurt broke away, watching Puck's heavy eyelids draw open at the same rate a stupid grin spread across his face, the boy whispered in an awed sort of tone, "Cool."

Looking over Puck's shoulder, Kurt met Finn's eyes and told him, "I think I can take it from here, Finn. Thanks for walking with me." Then he interlaced his fingers with Puck's and pulled him toward the dorm, thanking whatever higher power that might exist that he'd talked his dad into paying for a single room. "C'mon, Puckerman. You're winning that bet again tonight."

"Whatever you say, baby," Puck replied as Kurt unlocked the outer door, the self-satisfied grin evident in his voice and his chuckling breath warm against the skin on Kurt's neck.


End file.
